Chapter Text
Steve agreed that if he and Robin got into the same college, they’d go together.
So he would love to know why Robin Buckley wasn’t answering her phone when they are scheduled to leave for Indiana University in an hour.
“Oh my god…” Steve mumbled to himself, calling Robin for the sixth time in 10 minutes. “Please, please, please, please…” Steve rests his free hand on the counter of his kitchen island, leaning against it as he taps his fingers rapidly. He takes a quick breath, and throws his head back with his eyes closed. The anxiety was rushing through his body as the minutes ticked by. Steve took his hand off of the counter, not realizing just how tight of a grip he actually had on it, and checked the time on his watch.
3:28.
He ran his hand through his hair and took another deep breath before finally hearing a click on the other line. It was followed by a familiar voice in a low, tired tone.
“Hello?”
“ROBIN!” Steve yelled his best friend’s name a little louder than he intended to. He was just relieved that she was finally awake. He clears his throat before speaking again, “Robin! Rob, oh my god, we’re supposed to leave in nearly 30 minutes.” Steve finally began loosening up, his stance becoming much less tense as he began pacing the kitchen.
“30 minutes…?” Robin asks, her voice spacey and slow. Steve could tell he woke her up.
“Yes, Robs, 30 minutes. Its 3:38. I’m gonna leave ASAP, so do you think you can—”
Click.
“..Yep.” Steve places his hand on his hip as he hangs the phone back up on the wall. Knowing Robin, she was definitely scrambling to get ready at the very moment she hung up. Taking this into consideration, Steve grabbed his keys and his jacket before running out to his car that was already packed with all of his things.
As he backed out of his driveway and began the drive to the Buckley residence, it didn’t even cross his mind to take any final glances of the place he had been living in his whole life. One of the few things he wasn’t stressed about was getting the hell out of there.
—
At 4:09, Robin and Steve had his BMW filled to the brim with both of their belongings. It was just about a 3 hour drive from Hawkins to IU, though they didn’t plan on making that drive any more times than necessary. He was looking forward to living so close to Robin for the next year, if not four.
After doing his research, Steve was delighted to see that Indiana University was included in the wave of colleges across the U.S. that was implementing coed living arrangements. But, to his dismay, Robin wanted to live in a single-resident dorm for her first year.
Steve understood she had a very specific way of living, and cherished her alone time like no other. Not wanting to get in her way, he respected that, though it was a disappointment he couldn’t dorm with his best friend. Which meant that Steve had to place his trust in the roommate lottery—something he’s been dreading for months.
To compromise the loss of a roommate, Robin ensured that her dorm would be right across the hall from wherever Steve ended up. This eased some of Steve’s anxiety about the transition to college. He wouldn’t tell anybody, but that was really the only thing he was relieved by in his current situation.
Well, he wouldn’t tell anybody but Robin.
“And I might’ve forgotten something, and I barely know what I want to do, and my roommate might be a weirdo, and I might’ve taken a wrong turn, and—wait, am I going the right way? Robin, have you been—”
“Steve, please!” Robin exclaimed, cutting Steve off as she turned in the passenger seat to face her friend. “You sound like me right now. Take a deep breath, and focus on the now. Everything is going to be fine.” She tried to be stern in the kindest tone possible. The last thing she needed was Steve being stressed about her on top of everything else.
Robin takes a breath, “Listen. A, you didn’t forget anything necessary. If you forgot, like, I don’t know, deodorant, we can buy that at the store.” (Steve rolls his eyes at this.) “B, college is about figuring that out. Changing your major isn’t unheard of. And C, look at the signs, please!”
Robin turns back to face the windshield and points at a passing road sign, “‘Indiana University, next exit.’ I’d never direct you the wrong way on an important day like this.”
Steve is silent for a moment, taking in Robin’s words. He takes a deep breath, retaining his focus on the road ahead. “I’m sorry, Robin… I just–” But there’s something missing. Steve’s brows furrow, glancing at Robin for a moment. “Wait, what about the roommate thing? No comment on that?”
Robin takes a breath. “Steve, I can tell you plenty about yourself. You know that I can. What I cannot tell you is something about a mystery man we won’t meet for another… like… hour?” Robin puts her hands up and shrugs as she punctuates her sentence.
Her hands fall back down before flying back up as she speaks with her hands, as she so often does. “You’re best friends with me, and, frankly, I’m a weirdo. So whoever this guy is, you will be fine. I guarantee it.” Robin’s gaze lingers on Steve for a beat, a lightly concerned expression on her face.
She had been worried about how stressed he’s been over the college process, and the day was finally upon them. Seeing him so stressed was never a delight, and she helped the best she could; but in this situation, she knows there’s only so much she can do. Robin looks away and picks up the map to continue to guide Steve in the correct direction of Indiana University.
—
After placing a large box beside another, Steve stands up with a grunt. “Well, I think that’s all of your things.” He places his hands on his hips and looks around at the remaining boxes in Robin’s dorm. In the corner of the room, she’s in the process of unpacking all the sheets, pillows, and blankets for her bed.
“Yeah, uh, could you put... put that box... over there?” Robin says over her shoulder, nodding her head in one direction. Her eyes hadn’t peeled away from the sheets she was focused on as she gave Steve those painfully vague instructions. Nonetheless, he complied with a sigh, and moved the box in the general direction Robin had motioned toward.
The boxes now, hopefully, in the order she’d like, Steve took a final step back and kicked a doorstop propping the door open even tighter under the door. He leaned against the door frame and crossed his arms. Going up four flights of stairs multiple times with heavy ass boxes was wearing him out, to say the very least. Standing for a minute and taking it in was an excuse to take a break before moving onto his own belongings.
Robin’s room seemed awfully spacious for a single. She had her bed up against the upper left-hand corner of the room, a dresser positioned against the foot of the bed. With a closet built-into the wall beside the door, her desk sat against the wall parallel to her bed on the right side of the room. This left a whole lot of open floor space in the rest of the room, as the three things that came with her room took up only ⅓ of the entire space.
Steve was a fan of the way Robin decorated, and she knew this, as she helped him pick some decor of his own for his dorm. Watching her unload some of the things she was so excited to bring with her, Steve was looking forward to see her creation come to life over the course of the next week.
“If you don’t need any more help, I gotta start unloading my own things, Rob.” Steve says, watching Robin tear apart the boxes littering her dorm.
“Uhh, yeah, yeah I think I’ve got it,” Robin says, scanning the room for anything she may need help with. She glances back up at Steve and gives him a small smile. “I’ll yell if I need any help.”
Steve nods and spins on his heel, letting his hands fall to his side as he begins to walk away.
“Oh—Robin,” he abruptly stops, grabs the doorframe, and peeks his head around the corner. “If… If you see anyone go into this room before me,” he points at the door across the hall, his own door, “warn me.”
Robin’s head perks up at him, and gives a little salute to him as acknowledgement. Steve purses his lips and gives a small nod in reply, the anxiety about his roommate slowly creeping back as he turns around and starts heading towards the stairwell at the end of the hallway.
There’s a few ladies that look his way as he passes by handfuls of open dorms, different girls moving in. He smiles at the ones who try to greet him, but his interests lie in the anxiety that’s overtaking him as he anticipates the arrival of his unknown roommate. The women come and go—whoever this guy is might be living with him for the next year.
Steve approaches the door at the end of the hall, taking his hands out of his pockets so he can open the door to the stairwell. He grabs the handle, but is met with a face full of metal before he can turn and open it.
BANG!
“Holy Shit!” A man exclaims. Steve is too stunned from getting whacked in the head by a door to fully comprehend his surroundings. His hand had flown to his forehead, the main point of impact, and covers his eyes as he does so. While his head continues spinning, he hears the voice again.
“Shit… um, I’m so sorry, man. So sorry. Uhh… Do you need.. help…? Or like, ice? Or something?”
Steve rubs his eyes and rubs his forehead, slowly reopening his eyes to get a look of who swung that door open.
Before him stands a man with short, curly, light-brown hair and a round face. He has a clearly panicked expression, and everything he had been holding was thrown haphazardly on the ground. His style was… very different from what Steve’s used to. He had multiple chains around his neck, a black jean vest on, and a band t-shirt under it. His pants were dark blue and ripped, with a studded belt holding them up and a chain on his waist holding his wallet.
“Hello..? Are you good, dude?”
Steve took a deep breath. He didn’t want to get angry at this guy, but he couldn’t think straight with his head pounding the way it was. “I’ll be fine, I’ve… I’ve gotten worse than this to the head…” Steve’s hand remained holding his forehead as he spoke. “Just take it easy next time, man. That door flew,” he added, grimacing at the pain once more as he remembers how the door hit him square in the head.
“Uhh… which room are you? Maybe laying down for a bit could help out, y’know?” the man suggested, his palms facing out by his sides, ready to catch Steve if he fell.
Steve paused before answering to gather his thoughts. “411. But none of my—”
The man cut him off. “Oh, shit, dude! You’re my roommate!”
Steve’s expression dropped and his eyes widened, looking back up at him. “You’re what?”